


Exorcise Demons

by LateNightConversations



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateNightConversations/pseuds/LateNightConversations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past and the future mesh into one. Booze, conversation, and life always make the perfect combination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Hands

The lighting was dim and the air held a scent that was an odd potpourri of stale smoke, creosote, and cheap booze. A song quietly played through overhead speakers, that sounded like they had been blown for years. The words were cracked and muffled, but the tune sounded old and depressing. _Perfect._

Elbows resting on a stained and scared bar top, Faye Valentine slouched on her stool, nursing a whiskey sour that tasted as if it had been made with turpentine. It didn’t matter, it was cheap, and she was broke. It would get the job done for the night, and damn the consequences the morning after might bring.

She grinned slightly and wondered if sleeping with Spike would be much the same as drinking the cheap booze. The grin was however, fleeting, as a scowl soon replaced it at thoughts of _that_ man. He was the reason she was sitting in this shitty bar for the second night in a row, drowning her feelings with equally shitty booze.

One could clearly argue that it was her own reactions to the situation that led her here, but she preferred to pass the blame on to the lanky cowboy himself.

* * *

 

A month after he had decided to “find out if he was really alive” as he had so bluntly put it, he had shown back up on the Bebop one night out of the blue, just as she and Jet were getting ready to dig into another unsatisfying dinner.

To make matters worse, Jet had simply given him a stern nod, and then fixed the damn man a plate, like nothing had ever happened in the first place. He just took him right back in like he did to every damned stray that crossed paths with him.

The two of them just settled right into conversation, Spike going into the story of his fight with Vicious. He hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge her presence at the table; and she sat there listening to his smooth voice recite the tale of his most recent brush with death she realized that her unappealing dinner now seemed down right offensive.

There was no ‘Oh hey Faye how are you?’ or ‘Sorry I left you in the hallway like a complete and utter asshole when I decided to play Russian roulette with my life.’ Not that she should have expected such a thing. She was fairly certain that the word sorry was not in his vocabulary.

Leaving the table without a word, and with little reaction from her so called comrades, she had headed for her room, not caring to hear the end of the story.

* * *

 

Lighting a cigarette she inhaled deeply, watching the acrid smoke slowly dissipate in the humid, almost stagnant air of her current watering hole. In the two nights that she had spent glued to her preferred bar stool, she had only seen one other woman in the whole place.

Even now as she sat and smoked she could practically feel the occasional pair of eyes bore into her back. She didn’t mind, if they wanted to stare like a bunch of slack jawed, inbred mountain folk, then so be it. As long as they stayed out of her personal space it was sort of nice to be the center of someone’s attention.

She was fairly certain she could parade around the Bebop nude and all she would get would be some sort of lecture about free loading from Jet, and Spike bitching at her about using all the hot water in the shower. Not that she wanted much more from Jet, Spike however was another story, and that horrible admission to herself was almost nauseating in itself.

Staring at the bar top, she could see a word long carved into the top. It was worn mostly away though she could make out a B,T,and H, though she was fairly certain she could fill in the missing letters. Faye wondered who the mystery bitch could have been, and why she was even one in the first place.

Green eyes stayed fixed on the bar top, trying to decipher the shapes in the warped wood, if she squinted hard enough, one particular shape almost looked like a shark, at least sort of. She briefly wondered if she drank enough tonight if it would swallow her up and stop this cycle of never ending thoughts bouncing around in her skull. Peace and quiet would be nice for a change.

Downing the rest of her drink in a rather large gulp, she cringed as it hit her empty stomach, and then signaled the bartender for another. She rolled her shoulders, her back tight from sleeping, or rather passing out, in the cramped cockpit of the Redtail. She didn’t have the funds for a hotel room, or the fuel to get very far, or anywhere really.

* * *

 

Anywhere was better than the Bebop for the time being. Three months had gone by since the all mighty prodigal son had returned home. It marked what had been the longest three months that Faye could recall. They barely spoke, save for a few petty arguments here and there, or just the minimum amount required to collar a bounty.

Though they barely spoke, Faye was not at all oblivious to the actions of Spike, and that is what she found more unsettling that anything. Sure he still ate like every meal would be his last, smoked like a chimney, and by all accounts was no more or less cordial to Jet. However there had been a few instances that had left her shaken.

One night she had wandered into the kitchen in the middle of the night to get some water, and there he sat on the couch, in total darkness. He just sat there staring at nothing, almost in a trance, from what she could make out from the dim lighting from the hall, he wore a blank expression of a war weary soldier, stoic and lost. Even as he finally turned to look at her, his expression never changed. They didn’t acknowledge one another then, and never spoke of the encounter.

She knew he didn’t sleep much, she could usually hear him wander around the ship long after Jet, and even herself had retired for the night. Sometimes he left the ship, she would often hear him when he returned, stumbling through the halls presumably drunk.

Once she had heard him slump against her door after such a night, and sob. Something she didn’t think he was capable of, though she made no move to get up from her bed and comfort him, she found the situation absolutely heartbreaking.

That was simply how it was between her and Spike. There were certain walls that weren’t meant to be torn down, and certain rules that were meant to be followed. It was an unspoken understanding, and to break any of those just couldn’t be allowed. He would never come to her and seek comfort, though she knew if he did she would offer it. She wouldn’t pry into business that wasn’t hers, the more unattached they remained, the better off they would be. She almost had herself convinced of that.

* * *

 

As a fresh drink was placed before her, Faye took another large gulp. She wondered if the boys had even noticed she was gone. She hadn’t left some self pitying note behind this time, begging to be chased with out directly saying the words. And she hadn’t taken anything from the ship that didn’t belong to her. For all she knew they probably figured she was hold up in her room, or were chumming it up over a bottle of the good stuff that Jet had stashed somewhere, celebrating her departure.

Crushing out the cigarette that was little more than just a filter by now, Faye gave a heavy sigh. She knew that she was wrong, she cared about those bastards, and because they were all the more alike then any of them would like to admit, she knew they cared as well.

Life was sort of funny that way, or maybe it was just another shitty luck of the draw. Of all the people in the universe, the two she would get closest two would be just as fucked up and miserable as her. As they say however, misery loves company, and how true that was.


	2. Scar Tissue

Well worn wood creaked beneath equally well worn boots, and the salty scent of the Ganymede sea meshed with the fuel of the many ships moored in the harbor invaded his nostrils. Shrugging his shoulders against the cool night breeze, Spike Spiegel leaned against the railing of the dock and lit a cigarette.

He exhaled the smoke with an exasperated sigh. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to play errand boy for Jet, though it was his own fault for opening his mouth in the first place.

Of course they had noticed the girl was gone, well not at first, but when dinner rolled around without as much of a shower from her, they had a pretty good idea that she had dipped out. A simple check of the hangar had confirmed it.

That very night, while good and drunk Spike had staggered behind a group of warehouses along the pier to relieve himself, only to find the Redtail haphazardly parked. After what might have set the world record as far as pissing went, he had stumbled over to the craft, only to see Faye passed out in it, through the tinted glass of the cock pit.

Part of him had wanted to pound on the glass and scare her shitless, but the other part of him decided to leave her be. Obviously she wanted to be there, or at least away from the Bebop. So there it was that he left her, and he continued on his way home. It wasn’t until the next morning when he had so stupidly told Jet of what he had seen that he had ended up in the predicament that he was in now.

For some reason, unbeknownst to him, Jet seemed to think that Faye pulled her text book cut and run, because of him. Spike couldn’t quiet wrap his head around it, but since he really had nothing else to do, since he hardly slept anymore, he reluctantly agreed to go retrieve the troublesome woman.

Turning to lean over the railing, cigarette clenched between his teeth, Spike gazed into the inky depths of the water below. He found himself wondering what laid below the surface, on the bottom of the frigid waters. Maybe the answers to what life was for was somewhere down below, though he doubted it. What was life anyhow? A jumbled up mess of what ifs, and what could of beens was all he could fathom.

His past was gone, all of it, and all of the people from it. Annie, Mao, Lin, Shin, Julia and even Vicious. Every single person who tied him to his life with the Red Dragons were all pushing up daisies. Yet he was alive; walking, talking, breathing, very much alive.

Briefly he thought about a set of terracotta warriors that Mao used to have set up on the corner of his desk. He wondered if he would eventually crumbled one day like the clay figurines. Was that his destiny in the end? He couldn’t be sure, though he had been sure of it at one time.

He knew when he was reunited with Julia in the grave yard that there would be no rosy outcome, but in a cruel twist of fate she had been the one to die, when he had been so certain that it would have been him. She should have been the one to mourn him, instead however, he was the one dealing.

At least he thought he was dealing, though he couldn’t quite figure out why he didn’t feel more torn up over it. He felt guilt over her losing her life on his behalf in a way, but he felt a greater guilt over the fact that his heart ached less once she was gone from this world than it did in the three years they were apart. Was he a heartless asshole? Maybe.

He had told Jet once in regards to Julia that there was nothing he could do for a dead girl, that still rang true. All he had left was a presumable future, a future of what he didn’t know. Bounty hunting? Jet and Faye? That was all there was really in truth.

Dropping his cigarette to the water below, Spike stretched wincing slightly. The mostly healed wound on his side from Vicious’ katana felt tight and uncomfortable. A permanent reminder of a past gone wrong, a reminder that would always be with him.

A faint smirk crossed his lips, he had won out. Thankfully some syndicate flunky had the clarity of mind to call for an ambulance. Upon waking in the hospital, the doctor had told him for lack of a better words that he was lucky the wound wasn’t an inch or two deeper or he would have spilled his guts on the concrete. Spike wondered for a moment what hell would be like, as he was certain that’s where he would have ended up. Probably in a never ending triangle with Vicious and Julia, played out in different scenarios every day

He had been apprehensive about returning to the Bebop, though thankfully Jet had welcomed him back as always. Someday he would have to find a way to work out the words to let the old man know just how much that meant to him, for now however he would make a note of it and file it away in the deep recesses of his brain.

Faye however had been a different story. The look she had given him from her place at the table that night had left him perplexed. It had been a look of shock and relief and anger meshed all into one, and then he had gone and ignored her completely for the most part. Though now in retrospect, he didn’t know any other way to treat her besides keeping her an arms length away.

Jet had been easy to deal with, they just kept up their wall of a tough guy exterior with a deep understanding that both of them cared about the other, but he didn’t know how to decipher Faye. When he had left the Bebop for what he figured was the last time ever, she had shown him a side of her that he was unfamiliar with, an almost open side. When she had for a lack of better words, implored him to stay, he had opened up to her the best he could for some reason beyond comprehension to him.

When he had stared into her eyes as he spoke so freely to her, a part of him was tempted to close the gap between them and kiss her as if he would be able to drink the secrets of life from her mouth. Instead he had turned his back to her and walked away, even as she emptied her Glock into the ceiling desperation. There had been a weight in his chest however as he made his way to the hangar. A weight that he now realized was guilt.

Sighing, he pushed himself off the railing, and continued on his journey to recover the Bebop’s resident violet haired shit show. Considering he hadn’t run into her on his bender last night, and the fact that there were only two bars on the god forsaken stretch of dock, he had a pretty good idea of where to find her.

He grinned slightly as he stared up at the humming neon sign of Anchor Watch. If he had spending time drowning his own sorrows in booze, he would bet his last Woolong that Faye was doing the same. The two of them were too damn alike for their own good.

Staring blankly at the heavy wooden door for a moment he took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing_.


	3. Two Coins

Stepping into the bar, Spike found the scent the permeated his nose was no less offensive than the air outside. Glancing quickly around the bar, it took him little time to locate his target. Seated there at the bar was one very dejected looking Faye Valentine. Drink in hand and a porcupine looking ashtray in front of her. He wondered if she had smoked all the spent butts in it, though he didn’t doubt it. She looked down right pathetic.

A few quick strides and he found himself plopped down on the stool beside her. He saw her tense, though she made no move to acknowledge his presence.

“You look like shit Valentine.” He figured such a jab at her usually well groomed appearance would stir something in her, when he got no response he knitted his brow in frustration and reached for her drink, taking a large gulp. “Jesus…what is this shit?”

“What the hell do you want?” Faye’s tone was almost as cold as the breeze outside had been.

Taking another drink, Spike cringed a bit. “What’s the matter Faye-Faye….don’t want any company?” He didn’t miss the scowl on her face at his use of Ed’s most common form of her name, as she snatched the glass away from him.

“Get your own.” She finished off the glass, and set it down harder than she intended. “And I doubt you came here to keep me company. So why are you really here?”

Spike ignored her for a moment, flagging down the bartender for a shot and beer. “ Jet wanted me to come get you.”

“Well isn’t that special.” She scoffed. “ Baldy couldn’t come do it himself huh?”

Spike quickly downed his shot, and chased it with a rather large drink from the bottle of beer. “ What are you trying to prove Faye?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Always dramatics with you isn’t it?” Spike quickly grabbed the bartender and got himself another beer lined up, and another drink for Faye. “ Look, I know you’re sleeping in the Redtail, I saw you the other night. So I am assuming you don’t have any fuel. So why not come home?”

“What? So you’re stalking me now?” Faye eagerly took a sip of her freshly arrived drink. “ And I’m broke. Cut me some slack.”

“Aren’t we all.” Spike muttered, draining the last of his beer in a couple long swallows, reaching for the fresh one that had been deposited before him. He watched as Faye fumbled with the pack of cigarettes on the bar top. He didn’t miss the exasperated sigh she heaved upon realizing it was empty. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out his own pack, withdrawing two, handing one over to his companion.

Faye nodded slightly in thanks, at least she thought she did in her inebriated state. “You’re supposed to be dead.” She stated matter of factly. “ For all I know you’re not even really here. You’re just some fucking ghost my drunk mind made up.”

Spike lit his cigarette, slightly perplexed by her statement. Is she really that drunk? He reached his hand over in front of Faye and wiggled his fingers. “I’m pretty sure I’m alive.”

“ I guess so.” Shoving his hand away, Faye flicked her ash off in the plastic ashtray in front of her. “Why are you really here?”

“Are you deaf woman? I told you, Jet wants to you come home.” He drained the rest of his second beer, and glanced sidelong at Faye. Deciding he was in for a long night, he ordered another shot. “What is you’re deal anyways. You’ve been fucking weird since I came back.”

Crushing out her spent cigarette, Faye smirked. “Oh sorry, I’ve been so distracted lately planning the ticker tape parade in honor of your unceremonious return.”

Downing the shot that was placed before him, Spike crushed out his own smoke. “Fuck you Faye.”

“Oh please would you.” Faye raised her hands in mock praise, and stole another cigarette from the pack that Spike had left unguarded on the bar top. “ Get off your fucking high horse Spiegel.”

He chose to ignore her comment and watched as her quick hands pilfered a smoke from him, though he didn’t protest the action. “Look…are you coming home or what?”

“What do you care?” Faye downed the rest of her drink, and watched as Spike left a wad of cash on the top of the bar.

“You are fucking impossible woman.” He drained the rest of beer number two, feeling the alcohol consumed in such a short amount of time wasting no time in setting in. “It’s a yes or no question damn it.”

“Then no.”

Spike rolled his eyes, and tossed a few more bills on to the bar, the barkeep bringing him another shot. “ Why do you have to make shit so fucking difficult?” He downed the shot, and grabbed his cigarettes off the bar, shoving them back into his pocket.

Faye squinted, trying hard to focus on Spike. With his suit jacket open she could slightly see his Jericho resting in the shoulder holster he wore. “I’m not making anything difficult. I told you, I’m not coming home.”

Tossing back his shot, Spike slammed the glass down. He watched as Faye raised her hand to signal the bartender for another drink, quickly he shoved her hand down. “ Come on, you’ve had enough.”

She rolled her eyes. “What are you? My father?”

“If I were I wouldn’t be putting up with this shit in the first place.” He mumbled around a cigarette.

“Aw am I being naughty?” She leaned forward with one hand on his knee, as she reached around for the cigarettes in his pocket with the other.

“No, you’re being drunk and obnoxious.”

“Maybe I need a spanking.” A devious grin worked its way across her face as she greedily plucked a cigarette from the pack.

Spike snagged the pack out of her hand and shoved it back in his pocket. “ Maybe you do.” He muttered under his breath. He tensed slightly, as Faye reached over, gripping his tie, pulling him slightly closer.

Toying with the fabric of Spike’s tie, Faye’s previously devious grin, twisted into a slightly seductive smile. “ I didn’t know that was one of your kinks”

Feeling his face flush at her actions, Spike told himself it was just the alcohol. Subconsciously he licked his lips, his eyes fixed on hers. “ There’s lots of things you don’t know about me Faye.”  
They sat there in an dumbfounded silence staring at each other, Faye was the first to break the staring contest, as she felt the heat of her cigarette burn down to the filter. She turned awkwardly from him and deposited it among the small army of spent butts in the plastic ashtray on the bar top.

Hopping off his stool, Spike straightened his tie and cleared his throat. “ Look, I don’t really give a shit if you are coming home or not, since you’re so hell bent on being stubborn, but we’re getting out of here.”

Faye was about to fire back with a witty retort, but was caught off guard when Spike grabbed her hand, practically dragging her off her stool, and across the room. She forgot about the few pairs of eyes that had spent the night ogling her at the sensation of his warm calloused hand laced with her own. Her own words of protest died in her throat, never making it past her lips as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Heading out the door and into the cool night air, Faye felt her pulse race, and her face flush slightly, though she was no longer sure if it was from the booze, or the annoyingly intoxicating presence of the lanky cowboy. The hell with it though, the night was young, and anything was better than passing out in the cock pit of the Redtail. In a slightly bold move she leaned against him, and stifled a giggle that surprised her. Whatever the night would hold she was ready for it. _Bring it on._


	4. Barfly

“That’s it?”

Spike nodded taking a long pull from the bottle of beer in his hand. “ Yeah, that’s it. The whole story.”

After leaving the bar they had stopped off at a mini-mart, picked up a six pack of beer, re-upped their stash of smokes, and were currently taking up residence on one of a few benches that lined the pier. A light from the street corner cast just enough light to bathe them in a faint yellow tinge. 

The walk way between the bench and the dock railing was narrow, narrow enough for Spike to stretch his long legs out and rest his feet against the rails. He had just finished retelling his tale of his final showdown with Vicious, the story that Faye had seemed so uninterested in upon his return to the Bebop. “Was the ending not exciting enough for you?”

Faye shrugged, clutching her own bottle of beer in her hand. “ How do you feel now?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how awkward the question sounded.

Killing the rest of his beer, Spike cocked his arm back and the bottle as far out into cold sea as he could. “Indifferent I guess.”

Lighting a cigarette Faye nodded absentmindedly. She would pry no further, to do so would be to break that oh so sacred set of unspoken rules. She heard the faint splash as the bottle made contact with the water. “Ya know, some poor fish is gonna swim in there, get stuck, and die.”

“I didn’t know you were such an environmentalist.” Spike reached beneath the bench for another beer, a smirk on his lips. “ You’re not gonna run off and join the Space Warriors are you?”

“Eco terrorism isn’t really my thing.” Draining the rest of her beer, she tossed her bottle into the dark water. “Besides, it seems like way to much work.”

Spike shook his head slightly. “ Yeah wouldn’t want to chip a nail or anything.”

Faye lit a cigarette, and kicked his foot, almost knocking over the beer that was on the ground beside it.

Lighting a cigarette of his own, Spike glanced sidelong at the woman beside him and felt confusion twist throughout his insides. At times he wanted to just haul off and slap some sense into her. At other times it was he who dealt that same blow as he realized she was one of the few things that kept him grounded to his new found life in the present day. Silently he thanked her for it, though the words never seemed to be able to verbalize themselves, that is if he had wanted them too. 

The city lights danced across the water in the distance, Spike turned his full attention to them, watching as they bent and twisted into an awkward beautiful line of brilliant colors in contrast to the dark sea. Exhaling a large cloud of smoke, he kept his eyes fixed on the sea. “ Why are you acting so weird toward me.” He reiterated his question from earlier in the bar, being much more direct in his need for an answer this time.

Chuckling drying, Faye pushed herself up from the bench, stumbling slightly as she came to rest against the dock railing, her back to Spike. “ It’s still about you I see.” She spit her half smoked cigarette into the water below. “ God you’re still such an asshole.”

“What are you talking…”

“No.” She cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “You want to know what I am talking about? I’ll tell you.” Stepping onto the lower rung of the railing, she rested her hands on the top, the wind and salt worn wood smooth beneath her skin. If he wanted an answer then she was more than ready to give him one, stupid rules or not.  
The harmless banter they had been engaging in had been harmless enough, and felt familiar and comfortable, Spike wasn’t sure he was ready for this can of worms to be opened, though he had pretty much effectively popped the top. He drained his second beer, and reached for a third as he waited for her to continue, he had a feeling the six pack was going to prove to be a good investment.

“When you left…do you know what I did?” Faye chuckled slightly. “ Of course you don’t, that was a silly question. I blamed myself. I…I thought that maybe if I just came home after I went chasing after my past, that maybe I wouldn’t have run into Julia, I would have never had a message to deliver to you. Or I thought maybe I should have just kept that message to myself, and then you wouldn’t have run off. Because I thought you were fucking dead!” She took a deep breath and continued before he could cut in. “ After you left, I went into your room, I’m sure you noticed a few things out of place when you came back. I found that good bottle of bourbon you had stashed behind the night stand, I got good and drunk, and then cried myself to sleep on your goddamn bed.” 

Mentally scolding herself as her words broke slightly at the end of her rant, Faye glanced down at her hands, her knuckles white from gripping the dock railing. She shook her head. “ Pathetic isn’t it?” 

Spike was speechless, for once in his life there wasn’t a snide remark, or witty quip to rebut Faye with. 

“But after a couple of days, I pulled myself back together, and realized that if you wanted to go get yourself killed, you would have found a way to do it. So really it wasn’t my fault at all. I was starting to be ok with the idea of you being gone, but then you waltz back into the Bebop for dinner like you had never left. So you tell me something Spike…Is there a reason you think I should be kissing your ass and groveling at your feet now?”

“Faye….I…”

“I’m sure you don’t have one. Emotions seem to be a foreign concept to you. You didn’t care how Jet felt. Or how I felt.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index fingers, Spike sighed heavily. “ How did you feel?” He knew how stupid the question was, but forming thoughts was proving to be difficult at the moment.

“Did you seriously just ask me that? Did you not hear anything I just said.” She gave a sardonic chuckle. “And to think I loved you.” She muttered the last statement to herself, though she was sure he had heard her.

Spike almost choked at her words, on the mouth full of beer he had taken, he swallowed hard. “Loved…like past tense?” He stared at her back, watching as she pulled herself up on the top railing of the dock, she swayed slightly as she straightened up, her unbalanced movement making him uneasy. “ And now?”

Biting her lip slightly, Faye listened to the sound of the water below lapping against the rocks below. “Yes, past tense. I said loved. Now drop it.”

He didn’t need to know anything beyond that, lighting another cigarette be let this new information sink into his brain. It didn’t come as that big of a shock looking back on things now. Watching her stretch her arms out to keep herself steady, Spike felt his unease kick up a notch. “ Get down from there would ya.” He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the bench. 

A devious smile curled its way onto Faye’s lips. “Why? Afraid I might fall in? Would you come after me if I did?”

Spike’s eyes shot open, he knew she was mocking him, and he was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw her stumble slightly, clumsily righting herself once more. By now his unease was full blow nervousness. Rising to his feet with an exasperated sigh, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her off the railing and into him, steadying her on her feet before quickly releasing his hold on her. “ What? Are you stupid or something?”

She scowled, her brow furrowed as she furiously lit a cigarette, casting her eyes down toward the water as she leaned against the rail once more. “ I was fine. I don’t need you to come around trying to play the white knight now.”

“Right..” He drawled slowly. Clenching his cigarette between his teeth he removed his Jericho from the holster and ejected the clip. Slamming the clip back in place, he gripped the gun, leaning over the rail to glance at the water below. He was growing tired of her ‘devil may care’ attitude. “I could kill you right here…right now. Since you seem determined to put another nail in your coffin.”

Faye choked back a laugh. “ Well, aren’t we being a tad bit hypocritical?” The amusement soon left her voice however as she reached her hand out, slender fingers wrapping around the barrel of the gun. Bringing it to her forehead, she marveled momentarily the cool metal against her alcohol flushed skin. She met his eyes, her hand letting go of the pistol. “ But if you insist.”

Staring back into her eyes, he was met with a defiant gaze. Not breaking eye contact he switched the safety off. He couldn’t decipher why, but for the second time in his life he felt compelled to kiss her senseless, as if it would solve all the worlds problems. Instead he set the safety once more, shoving the gun back in its holster, turning from her, his gaze falling back to the sea.

“That’s what I thought.” Faye tossed her spent cigarette into the dark abyss below. “ Of course you have another option, since you‘re not man enough to pull the trigger.”

“What are you talking about?”

A wicked smile played on her lips as she grabbed his tie, pulling him closer to her. She leaned up, her lips brushing against his ear. “ You could fuck me.”

Spike tensed, swallowing hard, for a moment he was certain he forgot how to breath. He was about to say something when Faye traced her finger tips across his lips, silencing him further. 

Letting go of his tie slowly, Faye chuckled, poking him in the chest. Heading back to the bench. “ Easy cowboy. I’m just kidding.”

Gingerly rubbing the back of his neck, Spike tried to reset his disrupted cool demeanor. “ I…I knew that.” He just hoped his uncertainty hadn’t shone through in his words. 

Resettled on the bench, the pair each reached for another beer, effectively putting an end to the meager six pack. A heavy silence settled over them as both got lost in thoughts of their own, separate, but always circling back to the other. 

“Remember that time we collared that bank robber on TJ.” Spike was the first to break the silence. “We bought that bottle of good tequila, and you, me and Jet got blitzed as hell?”

Faye smirked. “Jet passed out on the couch, and you drew a dick on the top of his head with a permanent marker, and it took it him two days to notice. He went into town the next day, and didn’t even know it was there. He was so pissed.”

“He didn’t know it was their until Ed asked what it was.”

“What’s that funny shape on your head Jet-Person?” Faye mocked.

Spike snickered. “ That was a good time.”

“Yeah it was.” Faye agreed, chuckling a little.

Soon they were full blown laughing, whether it be from the alcohol, or just the recollection of a simpler time in life, even maybe a combination of both. Whenever one stopped, the others laughter would trigger another bout. They didn’t stop until they both had to wipe tears from their eyes and try to catch their breath, even then a chuckle or two would work through, until eventually they were plunged back into solemn silence once more.

Spike downed the rest of his beer, setting the empty under the bench. He glanced sidelong at Faye and then down at his feet. “ Look…Faye…I…I’m sorry about the way things happened.”

Faye was at a loss for words. It turned out that the word did exist in his vocabulary, though she was starting to wonder if it was the first time he had ever used it. All she had wanted from him was an apology, and she supposed that it was as close to a full one as she would ever get. In a bold move she reached her hand out, gently tracing her fingers down the side of his face, feeling faint stubble beneath the tips of them.

Briefly closing his eyes at her touch, Spike turned to face her, offering a half hearted grin.

In an even bolder move, of either stupidity or desperation, Faye closed the gap between them, gently pressing her lips to his.

Spike didn’t resist and returned the kiss. It was awkward, almost like to middle school kids at their first dance. He pulled back slightly, but then went back for more, their second attempt becoming much more, unyielding, all caution thrown to the wind with his hand cradling the side of her face, and her fingers in his hair. When the need for substantial air became too great, Spike slowly broke the kiss, pressing his lips to Faye’s in another quick gentle kiss before pulling back to study her face.

He saw her smile faintly, their eyes locking for a brief moment, before she pressed her face into his shoulder. “God damn you.” He heard her mutter before she pulled away. He heard her sniffle slightly, and from the corner of his eye he saw her quickly wipe her eyes. He made no comment on it however.

Both sat in momentary silence, as their brains to piece together what had happened, mirror images of one and other, hands rest on knees, eyes staring out at the dwindling city lights from across the harbor.

Clearing his throat loudly, Spike shifted uncomfortably. “ It’s getting late.”

Faye nodded in agreement. “ I’m still not coming home.”

Shrugging, Spike rose to his feet. “I figured as much. I guess uh…Have a good night then.” He momentarily wondered if he should try to persuade her further, or at least offer to walk her back to the Redtail. He figured however that at this point in time, that chivalry was pretty much dead, the zip craft wasn’t that far away, and Faye was a tough girl. He was certain she could get back their in one piece. However as he turned to go, he felt her hand wrap around his wrist.

“Spike….Wait.”

He turned around to face her, as her hand fell from his wrist, resting in her lap. “What?”

Faye bit her lip apprehensively, and took a deep breath. “There is a motel up the road…if you have the money…for a night.”

Spike only took a moment to let her words sink in before nodding slowly. A crooked grin etched on his face, he offered her his hand and pulled her off the bench. “Come on, lets go.”


	5. Say Anything

The soft pattering of water was the first thing to register to the still sleepy senses of Spike. _Is that rain?_

Keeping his eyes closed, warding off the beginnings of a headache, he soon realized the sound was a shower running.

Finally opening his mismatched brown eyes, he sat up; the cheap, starchy, motel bed sheet haphazardly covering his nude body. The ancient alarm clock on the night stand read 9am. Despite the hour, with the curtains closed the room remained dim.

Flipping on the lamp beside the bed, he squinted in the harsh light. Turning his head as far to the side as he could, in an effort to work the stiffness from his neck, is when he made the discovery. There on the back of his shoulder was a line of four little, red half moons.

Closing his eyes again, he heaved a sigh, and let his head thump back against the wall, a little harder than he intended to. _So…that really did happen._

Opening his eyes once more, Spike observed their one night rental kingdom. The tacky wallpaper was peeling in places, one of the outlets was missing a cover, the curtains were threadbare.

His eyes shifted to the nightstand. A half pack of cigarettes and a lighter were amongst a few empty beer bottles, as they had stopped back off at the mini-mart before checking in. Joining the clutter was a box of condoms. Spike let out a relieved sigh that one of them had the clarity of mind to pick some up, though he couldn’t recall if it had been him or Faye. Between the booze, and a make out session in the alley beside the motel, his mind had been reeling by the time they had checked in.

His relief was short lived however. As he picked the box up, his brow furrowed as he realized it was unopened. Silently in his mind he hoped for some sort of divine intervention, the last thing he need was to knock Faye up. Tossing the box back on the nightstand, he wondered if he should instead make a deal with the devil, as any sort of offspring the two of them might produce was sure to be some sort of hell spawn.

The old mattress creaked as Spike swung his legs over the side with a groan. Spying his discarded boxers in a heap of clothing on the floor, he pulled them on and stretched, making his way to the window.

Pulling back the curtains, he opened the window with a little resistance. A cool, refreshing morning breeze rushed in, accompanied by the scent of the salty seaside air.

Plopping back on the edge of the bed, Spike reached for the pack of cigarettes. He noticed among all the other junk on the night stand, was two paper cups of coffee. One was half gone, the other untouched. He arched a brow. _She got us coffee?_

Taking a drink from the full cup, he lit a cigarette. Taking a long drag, he ran his hand through his hair and exhaled, dreading the moment when Faye left the shower and they would have to talk.

 

* * *

 

Hot water cascaded over her shoulders. Leaning into the low pressure stream, Faye sighed. Last nights events had been very unplanned, but very enjoyable.

Rifling her fingers through her hair, Faye worked the poor quality motel shampoo into a lather. Sighing heavily, she leaned back against the cool tile. How damn domestic was she becoming? She had lumbered down to the lobby this morning, clad in Spike’s button up and boxers to retrieve coffee for both of them.

She had watched him doze peacefully while she had smoked and drank half her coffee. With out an arrogant smirk etched on his lips, and no witty retorts spilling from his lips, he almost seemed like a different man. She continued to let her gaze linger on him as she finished her cigarette, only to reluctantly pry her eyes from his still form, to head for the shower.

Closing her eyes, she could still recall the paths his hands had traced down her body, the trail his lips had followed across her skin, his breath hot in her ear. The feel of his arms wrapped around her body as she fought sleep, if only to enjoy those lingering moments of closeness.

Slowly opening her eyes, Faye blinked hard at the stinging of shampoo in her eyes. Quickly rinsing her hair, she reached blindly for the knob, turning off the water. Reaching for the stiff, starchy towel on the rack, she realized she was dreading going back into that room.

Did she regret last night? No. Would it make things awkward between them? Probably. Faye knew sooner or later she would have to face Spike, and she wasn’t sure just how that would play out.

* * *

 

What little heat the coffee had held, was long gone as Spike drained the paper cup of its contents. Lighting another cigarette, he found himself wondering exactly how his mission to retrieve Faye from her own self loathing, on Jet’s behalf even, had ended up like this.

Spike would be lying to himself if he were to say that he hadn’t thought about a scenario like this in some of his lonelier times, though he would just as soon eat a light bulb than tell that to Faye. He could almost envision the smug smirk of satisfaction that would bring.

He could say it was because they were drunk, though not drunk enough to not know what they were getting themselves into. And most definitely not drunk enough to not be able to recall the previous night. Bits and pieces were fuzzy, but Spike could recall most of it quite vividly.

With the bland sheets twisted and bunched beneath them, Faye had clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded to reality in the chaotic world that they knew. With her nails digging into his shoulder he was fairly certain he had heard those three words fall from her lips, the very same three words she had denied earlier in the night.

Not long after, sometime post climax, with his sweaty forehead pressed to her shoulder, and his heart beat trying to find its normal rhythm, he was pretty sure he had uttered the same statement.

Did she mean it? Spike didn’t doubt it for a moment, even if she were to deny it, he knew she was not the incredible liar she thought herself to be.

Did he mean it? In his own fucked up, nihilistic way, he was sure he probably did.

They hadn’t spoken another word. He had felt Faye’s arms tighten their hold on him, and it was like that they remained until sleep had won out.

The sound of the bathroom door shutting put an end to his recollection of the nights events. From the corner of his eye he could see a towel clad Faye searching about for her discarded clothing.

He hated how sometimes her presence alone was much louder than any words ever spoken. It was annoying, and his brain never could decipher the logicality of it. It just made no sense.

Spike heard the towel hit the floor with a soft thud, and the rustle of clothing as Faye dressed. He sighed softly. “ Hey..thanks for the coffee.”

“Yeah.”

The bed creaked slightly as Faye sat down on the opposite side, fidgeting slightly. The tension was quick to fill the room.  
Tossing the pack of cigarettes behind him, Spike listened to the sparking of a protesting lighter, before the acrid scent of smoke permeated his nostrils. He heard Faye sigh as she exhaled. He knew that it was time to address the elephant in the room, and the sooner the better. “Look…Faye…about last night.”

“Don’t.” she was quick to cut him off. “I’m not asking for it to happen again. I’m not asking for a relationship. I’m not asking anything of you.”

“Good.” He crushed out his smoke, and reached behind him to retrieve the pack of cigarettes, placing another between his lips, but leaving it unlit. Something seemed a bit off, he wasn’t expecting Faye to be so calm and rational about things.

His mind a little more at ease, he finally lit the cigarette, exhaling with a smirk. “It was good though, right?”

“Very good, actually.” Faye felt her cheeks flush slightly at such an open admission, and was grateful for the fact that his back was still to her. “ But please, keep your ego in check. I doubt tight wad Jet is going to pay to have all the doors altered just you can fit your head through them.”

He chuckled faintly at her words, glad the things didn’t seem to be too awkward yet. Spike heard the faint sizzling as Faye deposited her cigarette into one of the beer bottles on the night stand.

“ Hey Spike.”

“Hmm?”

“There actually is one thing that I do want to ask of you.”

“What’s that?” He felt the mattress shift, as Faye came to rest on her knees behind him.

“Stop chasing ghosts.” She hesitated for a moment before wrapping her arms around his waist loosely, her forehead pressed against the back of his neck. “ Just live like you have a future for once damn it.”

He tensed in the hold of her loose embrace, pulling away from her arms to snuff his cigarette out in the plastic ashtray on the night stand. “There aren’t any ghosts left to chase, everyone who ever mattered is dead. And I think I’ve kinda made peace with that. ”

His words stung slightly, as Faye tried to rack her brain for something, anything to say to his statement, she was caught off guard when he sat on the bed once more, leaning back against her. Reluctantly she wrapped her arms around him again, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Except you and Jet. You’re still here” He felt goose bumps rise along his arms at the feel of her hands on his bare skin, as brief flashes of last nights events played out in his head. He didn’t know how to feel about this sudden and rare display of affection from the woman behind him, but if they were going to escape reality a little longer, he didn’t mind.

“About what I said. Do you think you can at least try?” Faye tightened her hold on him slightly, puzzled at her own actions, though she pushed it from her mind, since Spike didn’t seem to mind.

“Faye when have I ever done anything you asked of me?”

“You really are an asshole. You know that?”

“I try.” Spike chuckled slightly, and leaned back against her a bit more, smirking as he felt Faye shift to avoid being knocked back.

“I really don’t think you have to try. It seems to come pretty damn natural to you.”

“Maybe. Or maybe its all just a big act. You’ll never know.” He closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth of her arms around him. “ But in all seriousness…about that other thing. I can try. No promises though.”

“Good. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you.” Gently she pressed her lips to his shoulder, her fingertips gently tracing along the soft trail of hair above his belly button.

Spike sighed contently, his eyes remaining closed. “ When did you want to check out?” He tensed as he felt Faye’s lips ghost along his neck.

“In a while.”

This time, purposely knocking her back, Spike turned, lacing his fingers with hers as he held her hands above her head. Leaning down, he quickly captured her lips, hesitantly pulling away, he let his lips brush hers as he spoke. “ Great minds think alike I see.”

With a smirk, Faye lifted her head seizing his lips in a much more heated exchange of kisses than before.

Releasing her hands, Spike ran a hand down her side. He knew they were dancing on the edge of dangerous territory, but right now it didn’t matter. He had told Faye he would try to live like he had a future, but in the moment all he wanted to live in was the present.


	6. City of Black and White

The lighter clicked on, the lid flipped shut. The lid flipped open and the lighter was lit again. Over and over.

“Would you cut that out already!”

Faye snapped to attention, reaching for a cigarette, lighting the lighter one last time before tossing it on the table. “There…is that better?”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Jet lit a cigarette of his own, and nodded as he exhaled. “ Much better. Ya know if you’re that bored…the kitchen needs cleaning.”

Tapping her ash off in an empty beer can on the coffee table, Faye feigned a coy smile. “ You wish.”

“ ‘Fraid I don’t believe in miracles anymore.”

Rolling her eyes, Faye shifted her gaze from the half played game of solitaire before her to the main hatchway. “What the hell is taking that idiot so long? It shouldn’t take that long.”

Jet smirked around his smoldering cigarette. “You miss him or something?”

“No!” Faye scolded herself for her too quick answer and shot him an indignant glare. “Just thinking maybe I should have gone instead.”

“Right, I’m sure by now you’d already be on your way back from the track right?”

“Hey when I win big, don’t come to me begging for money.”

Jet choked back a laugh. “ I’ll be sure to remember that.”

Crushing out her cigarette, Faye let her eyes wander back to the doorway.

Spike had left hours earlier after some small fry bounty. He had been very adamant about going alone, and so alone they had let him go.

Jet cleared his throat. “Look…not to pry, but that night Spike went out to bring you back home…you guys didn’t come back that night…but you came back together the next afternoon..”

Faye bit her lip slightly, trying to come up with a quick story. Jet had caught her off guard breaking the silent rules of the Bebop. They weren’t supposed to butt into each others business like this. “ We…uh, got drunk and got a motel room to pass out in.” She congratulated herself on telling the truth, minus a few omissions.

Jet arched a skeptical eyebrow. “ That so?”

“Uh, yeah and wouldn’t you know, that lunkhead even slept on the floor, let me have the bed. Guess he must have a heart after all.” Faye was powerless to stop the river of verbal diarrhea that spewed from her mouth, knowing all the long she should have stopped while she was ahead. There was no way Jet was going to buy that line of bullshit.

Silence filled the room, save for the soft creaking of the ceiling fan above. Jet, thankfully, had let the subject die as he snuffed out his cigarette and began to look for their next potential bounty.

Faye returned her attention to the cards on the table, occasionally stealing glances at the doorway while her mind wandered elsewhere. It had been two weeks since the risqué night she and Spike had spent in that seedy motel.

Despite his willingness at that time to live like he had a future, he had been none the less aloof, brooding, and reckless. Faye laughed internally, had she really expected that her body would have been enough to sway the lanky man to let go of his past?

If anything, she had done more damage to her own psyche. She’d be the biggest liar in the solar system if she were to say that lately she hadn’t been the unfortunate recipient of some less than desirable dreams. The sort of dreams that leave you waking tangled in the sheets, sweating and praying to whatever higher power that was out there that you weren’t talking in your sleep.

While Faye wasn’t at all ashamed to admit that she lacked self control when it came to indulging her vices, this was one that she knew she couldn’t allow herself to give into. Sure she might drink like a fish, smoke like a chimney, and gamble away money that should have been spent on some thing of use, but it was just in her nature. Why mess with perfection?

However with each passing day it was getting harder for her to talk herself out of sneaking away to Spike’s room after night fell, for another delightfully sinful roll in the sheets. She knew that he would not deny her, but to give in to temptation, would give Spike the upper hand. He would have control over whatever resemblance of pride she had, and that could not be allowed.

The soft flipping of cards, and the soft clacking of the key board as Jet continued his search were the only sounds to join the ceiling fan, as the two occupants of the room were lost to their own thoughts.

It was like that they stayed, in a peaceful silence, until that silence was shattered by what sounded like the Swordfish making a hard landing on the flight deck. Jet and Faye exchanged perplexed glances.

* * *

 

In a matter of minutes two became three, as Spike shuffled through the door way, cigarette dangling from his lips. He staggered slightly as he came around the side of the banged up yellow couch and plopped down opposite end of Faye.

Faye could tell he had been drinking, and from the sidelong glance Jet shot her, she was pretty sure he could tell too.

Peeling off his suit jacket, Spike tossed it on the table, scattering the game of solitaire. Leaning his head against the back of the couch he closed his eyes, cigarette firmly clenched between his teeth.

“Hey! What the Hell Spike?” Faye was about to protest further, but stopped short when she noticed the crimson splotch on the front of his shoulder, oozing through the fabric of his shirt.

Jet clenched his jaw, and ran his hand over his face. “ I suppose you didn’t get him.”

Cracking his eyes open, Spike exhaled a cloud of smoke. “ Nope. Lost him, went for a drink after.”

Jet rose from his chair. “ Like that?” He motioned toward Spike’s wound.

“Yeah. Like this.”

Shaking his head, Jet headed off to tend to his bonsais, pausing in the hallway for a moment he turned back to Faye. “If he needs to be stitched up, it’s your turn this time.” With that he left the room.

Mumbling a few choice words under her breath, Faye pushed herself up from the couch, looming over Spike, who still continued to smoke, eyes still closed. “ Come on, get up.” She kicked his foot.

Flipping her off with his free hand, Spike remained silent.

Rolling her eyes, Faye grabbed his hand tugging him in the desired direction, as he gave in and rose to his feet. “Good boy. Now come on, you know the drill. Let’s go lunkhead.”

* * *

 

Spike leaned heavily against the cool metal wall, seated on his bed. Faye sat beside him on the bed, rummaging through the first aid kit that sat between them.

Deft fingers unbuttoned his shirt, assessing the wound as Faye decided what was the best approach in treating the lanky man.

Spike closed his eyes as Faye unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. “ So what’s the verdict doc, am I gonna die?” He could smell the mild antiseptic as she opened an alcohol wipe.

“Unfortunately not.” Gently she swabbed the edge of his wound with the wipe, watching as he cringed slightly at the sting.

“I see you’re bed side manner is as impeccable as always.” Spike fished around in his pocket for his cigarettes, cramming one between his thin lips, and lighting it, exhaling a harsh cloud of smoke.

Faye furrowed her brow, looking between an assortment of bandages, as her eyes looked back to the wound on his shoulder she realized that butterfly strips probably wouldn’t hold well enough, and that stitches would probably be the best option. “Hey did you want to try to sew this thing up yourself?”

Smirking around the cigarette in his mouth, Spike kept his eyes closed. “ I could probably do a better job.”

As Faye began to stitch his wound, she felt her face flush slightly at their close proximity, as she tried not to think about two weeks earlier. “When was the last time you stitched anything?”

Ash falling on to his bare shoulder from the cigarette, Spike grinned. “Beats me.” He tried to focus on anything but the feel of the sutures. Faye was about as gentle as a crocodile in her work, though he was trying more than anything to distract himself from the feel of her hands on his skin. “Faye…do you think there is a heaven?”

Pausing her work momentarily, Faye shifted her gaze upward toward him, before returning to her work. “I dunno, I guess maybe I do.”

“You think they let people like us in?”

Focusing on her work, Faye gave his question slight thought. “ Maybe me, but you might have a seat in hell waiting for you.”

“I thought so.” Spike’s voice held none of the sarcastic tone Faye was accustom too. In fact it was void of any decipherable emotion.

Faye finished the stitches, and swabbed the closed wound with another antiseptic wipe, her brow furrowed. “You didn’t really go after a bounty at all, did you?”

Spike sighed as he exhaled another cloud of smoke. He hated that she could read his actions better than he assumed. “ No. This..” He motioned with his smoking hand to the wound. “ Was from a bar fight.”

“Jesus Christ Spike..” Faye gave an exasperated sigh. “ You’re really a piece of work, ya know that?”

With the alcohol still coursing through him, Spike focused on the pleasant buzz, as he closed his eyes leaning his head against the wall once more. He didn’t need to be lectured, especially by Faye of all people.

Taking another drag, he turned the conversation back to the earlier topic. “If there is a heaven, do you think the people up there can see what we’re doing?”

Faye was set to lay into him, but was caught off guard by his question. “I think they have better things to do, like playing harps or whatever the hell it is that they do, instead of being perverts, if that’s what you’re playing at.”

Spike chuckled slightly, tossing his still burning cigarette butt into the ashtray on the night stand. “Well that’s an idea I could get behind.”

Faye rolled her eyes and grabbed a gauze pad, securing it in place with a few strips of tape. “ Well you’re good as new. I think my work here is finished.”

“Thanks.” Spike met her eyes as she snapped shut the lid of the first aid kit.

“Yeah don’t mention it.” Faye shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, though she remained unmoved from her spot. “Well, you should get some rest….” Her voice trailed off, as she attempted to push herself up from the firm mattress.

Grabbing her around the wrist, Spike held her firm in place. “Wait.”

“What?” The words fell from her lips in a much more subdued tone than she would have preferred.

“Stay.” Spike licked his dry lips quickly. “I mean, here, with me, tonight.”

“You’ve been drinking.” Faye stated flippantly.

“So? I’m not drunk.” Spike kept his hold on her wrist. “ Besides what would it hurt?”

  _What would it hurt?_ It could hurt plenty of things, she knew that. She knew that she should tell him no, and head for the door. That would be the logical thing to do, but then again, Faye had never operated on the logical plane. Staring back into his eyes however, she found that logical was the last thing that any thought in her mind wanted dwell on.

Giving in, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. “Why should I?”

Closing the small gap between them, Spike pressed his lips softly to hers, letting them linger as he pulled back. “ Because I’m me, and you are you.”

Faye kissed his lips once more, ignoring the lingering taste of booze. “ That’s all you’ve got?”

Pulling her down on top of him as he laid back, he smirked. “ Yeah, I guess so.”

Every thing in her mind screamed at her to leave, to head for her own room and just try and get some sleep, to deal with everything in the morning, when they both had clear minds. Sadly, though he had been the one who had been drinking, she was the one who seemed to have clouded judgment.

With his hands on her hips, and his lips at her throat, Faye was easily swayed by the cowboy beneath her. A sarcastic smirk worked its way on to her lips, as she tilted her head back. “ Well I guess that’ll have to do then.”

“Good.” Spike shifted beneath her, reaching out to switch off the bedside lamp, wincing as he had momentarily forgotten about his stitches.  
Chuckling, Faye leaned down to kiss him softly, before moving to switch the light off. “ Here let me get that.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, I guess it’s the least I can do since you’re an invalid.” As the room was plunged into darkness, Faye felt Spike’s hands run up her back, his lips grazing her jaw, as his only response to her words.

For the briefest of moments she scolded herself for putting herself in this very position, though as his lips worked down the side of her neck, she forgot exactly why she was scolding herself to begin with. _So much for self control._


	7. Duality

In the early hours of the morning, everything aboard the Bebop was silent. Though he was awake, Spike didn’t need to open his eyes to know that he was not alone. He could feel Faye curled around him, her head on his chest, her arm draped across his bare torso.

He desperately tried to will himself to fall back into a slumber that he knew would not come, the gears in his brain were already turning full force.

Slowly opening his eyes, he glanced down at his companion. A small, half hearted smirk graced his face. Any man with a heart beat could clearly see that the woman was attractive, himself included. Yet here in the early morning hours, there was something different about her. The world weary, sarcastic woman who had searched so long for a past that meant so little, was gone. Her soft, sleeping features more resembled that of the bright eyed teen from the damned beta max video. She looked so peaceful, so at ease, so….beautiful. _Beautiful?_ Yeah, that was what it was, though he’d never dare tell her that.

Letting his eyes slip closed once more, the faint traces of a smirk still on his lips, Spike tried to relax his already tense body, to no avail. He longed for nothing more than to slip back into the dreamless void of sleep, to forget the world a little longer.

He focused on the warmth of Faye’s soft breath against his skin, the corners of his mouth slowly turning to a frown. The shared warmth of the body heat radiating between them felt almost comforting in some odd way. Opening his eyes once more, he furrowed his brow at the notion of how disgustingly good all of it felt. Faye most certainly was not supposed to make him feel anything remotely close to this. It was all wrong, wasn’t it?

Sure, when he was sleeping with her he didn’t have to dwell on lingering thoughts of the fragments of his fucked up past. He didn’t have to dwell on much of anything for that matter, except for the exhilarating sensation of skin on skin. Did that mean he was using her? Possibly. He could see how it could easily look that way.

Carefully slipping out of her grasp, he tensed when she shifted, snuggling into the pillow that now occupied the spot he had moments before. When he was sure that she was still asleep, he let out the breath he had failed to realize he had been holding.

Silently dressing, he headed for the door, pausing with his hand on the knob to steal a glance back at Faye. In her shifting, the covers had slipped down, exposing her nude body to him. With a sigh he turned back for the bed, gently pulling the covers up, it was cold on this damned bucket of bolts.

He scowled slightly as he briefly questioned his actions. Why should he care? He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. Was it regret? No that wasn’t it. As unethical as the situation might be, he definitely didn’t regret what they had been doing.

If he had taken a moment longer to let his thoughts linger on the subject, he would have realized it was guilt that twisted his guts, but there wasn’t time for analyzing any of that. For now all he needed was to get away and clear his mind.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, giving Faye one last look over. The knot in his gut tightening as he turned back for the door once more.

* * *

 

The last remnants of the sun painted the sky a deep crimson, as Spike sat on the wing of the Swordfish, parked on the furthest outskirts of Tharsis. He had spent the afternoon making himself comfortable, getting acquainted with his new friend. Just who might this friend be? The kind that was strong, dark and comforting, and the kind that just happened to be a fifth of cheap whiskey.

Off in the distance a zip craft buzzed low to the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust just as blood red as the sky. Spike smirked. Probably some punk ass kid. He had been that punk ass kid once. Reckless, stupid, thinking he was invincible; maybe not much had really changed.

Taking another pull off the almost empty bottle, he swallowed hard. Given his whirlwind romance with booze, he was certain his liver must hate him. He was sure one day he would vomit the damn thing up as the poor organ made a desperate attempt to be free of its liquor soaked prison.

Lighting a cigarette, he inhaled deeply, a smirk twisting its way onto his lips. Maybe his lungs could join in on the mutiny as well. Maybe that’s how he would go out in the end, with his organs all trying to escape his body at once; probably all while he dozed carelessly on the worn yellow couch, leaving poor Jet to clean up the mess.

He could just see it now. Jet would bitch to Faye the whole time while cleaning up the well worn heap of organs, and then they’d probably dump him in the harbor, and have a drink while commiserating over what a bastard he had been. Hopefully they’d at least have the decency to pour one out over the side of the deck for him.

Flicking the rest of his cigarette to the ground below, he drained the rest of the bottle in two large gulps, tossing it out into the vast nothingness before him. He winced slightly as he felt his stitches pull, despite the alcohol coursing through his veins.

Un-holstering his Jericho, he squinted as he lined up a shot with the bottle. As he pulled the trigger his nostrils were filled with the scent of gunpowder, and through the reverberating report of the shot, he could hear the faint shattering of glass, a strange feeling of peace settling over him momentarily. Sometimes there was something just so beautiful amidst destruction.

With a sigh he set the gun down beside him, leaning back against the body of the zip craft. He stretched his hands out before him, splaying his fingers, intently studying the thin, long digits. Dropping his hands to his sides, he closed his eyes, his mind entertaining thoughts of the previous night.

Those very same hands had gripped Faye’s hips hard, as she was above him, pushing both of them up and over the walls of ecstasy. He briefly wondered if he had left bruises. _Did it matter?_ He quickly decided that it didn’t. He was pretty sure he could fuck Faye into oblivion for the rest of his life and still feel no better or worse for it at this point.

He tried to push Faye from his mind, but failed, as thoughts of their brief conversation over the existence of heaven flashed through his mind. He found himself secretly hoping that she had been right.  Turning his mismatched eyes to the blackening sky, Spike felt a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Gee mom and dad…bet you’re real proud of who your little boy grew up to be huh?”

What exactly was he? That was a simple enough answer, though it brought no solace. He was a former syndicate member, a man who had chased ghosts. He had been a drifter, a killer, a lover. He was moody, sarcastic and quick witted. He kept those closest to him at a distance, but when he cared, he was loyal to a fault, but carefully kept it hidden.

He was the tiger striped cat, a beast that had lost its fangs, the swimming bird, a bounty hunter, and even a lunkhead. He had cheated death more times than he could count. Still, he was alive. Yet none of that seemed to mean a damned thing.

Lighting another cigarette, he closed his eyes once more as he exhaled. He thought back to a Thanksgiving when he was a kid, probably around eight. Seated between his father and uncle on the couch, he had watched them drink beer and watch football, unable to figure exactly why they would yell so damn much at the TV when it was obvious the players couldn’t hear them.

Later on when his mother had tried to get him to add more vegetables to his plate, he had argued with her that potatoes counted as one. She had simply laughed, and added a healthy scoop of green beans to his plate. Before the meal, she had everyone at the table share what they were thankful for. He recalled that he had stated that he was thankful for his bicycle. It was red and shiny, fast on the side walks and reliable. He felt invincible on the seat, his hands tight around the handle bars. A pre-cursor to the Swordfish, of sorts.

As an adult, he never gave much of a thought as to what he was thankful for. In retrospect he knew he had plenty of things to be thankful for. He was thankful for the fact that Mao had taken him under his wing and seen the potential in a young man who couldn’t see it himself. He was thankful for Annie for seeing through all that cockiness and bravado, making sure to knock him down a few pegs to keep his ego in check, in a way that only she could.

He was thankful for having known Vicious and Julia, though he couldn’t pin point exactly why. It was all a twisted blur of camaraderie, love, and borderline obsession. But it was a pivotal part of his life, they molded him into the man he now was, the good and the bad, they had left their mark on him.

He had betrayed Vicious and stuck the knife in the proverbial back of their friendship, all for Julia. The blonde woman however, had walked both sides of the fence, pitting the two men against each other, unintentionally, until neither knew what exactly it was that they hated each other for more. Yet his love for her still lingered in the deep recesses of his mind. He couldn’t be sure that it would ever fade entirely.

Now however, in the present, he wasn’t sure what he was thankful for anymore. Finishing off his cigarette, he knew he was only lying to himself, and doing a poor job of it at that. He was thankful for both Jet and Faye. The only two people that were the ties to his present and future. All three of them where closed off, emotionally fucked people. It was because of that, he knew, that they all needed each other. Even if they would never voice it. It was a silent mutual pact that they had all willingly entered into.

He was thankful that Jet, despite his gruff exterior, was far too fond of him to ever totally throw him off the Bebop. He might make a big show of putting his foot down, but Spike knew the former cop would always welcome him back, no questions asked. Maybe the old man was just tired of being alone, or maybe he saw that one something that Mao had seen years earlier, the one thing that Spike himself was still so unsure of.

He was thankful for Faye, though he didn’t quite know why, Was it that she was so willing to offer up her body for the night to let him forget the past that stalked him like a predator? Was it because she was a part of his present that refused to let go? Someone that was always there at his side even if he didn’t want it? He wasn’t sure what part of it that he was thankful for, but he was damn sure he was.

Staring out at the vast nothingness of Mars, the blood red sands now turned maroon by the barely visible sun, Spike rubbed the bridge of his nose. He needed to sober up, he needed to get back to the Bebop. There were some long over due apologies to be made. The sooner he could spill the words trapped in his throat, the better.

He just hoped that they were as willing to listen as he was to talk for once in his miserable life.


	8. Rivers and Roads

Waking much earlier than he had hoped to, Spike sat up with a groan. He felt like he had been hit by a truck, several times over for that matter. He had slept off most of last nights whiskey in the cock pit of the Swordfish before heading back to the Bebop, in a fashion that could only be called reckless. He was sure the mono racer was haphazardly parked on the flight deck, something that was certain to earn him an ass chewing from Jet.

Dreading that very earful from Jet quickly jogged his memory. He recalled his alcohol hazed intentions of the night before. He still planned on talking to Faye and Jet, though in which order he wasn’t sure. Jet definitely would be the easier of the two, that much he knew.

Grabbing his pants from the floor, he slowly pulled them on, one leg at a time, and buttoned the shirt he still wore from the night before. He had managed to unbutton it, but had failed to discard the article of clothing before passing out.

Rising to his feet, Spike stretched, the symphony of cracking and popping joints meeting his ears. “God damn..” he muttered, reaching for his cigarettes on the night stand. He paused mid reach, and blinked slow and hard, trying to ward off the beginnings of a head ache.

Snatching up the pack, he crammed one between his lips, fumbling with a protesting lighter. He paused for a moment, focusing on an unpleasant pressure in his guts. Swallowing hard, he stood still for a moment before belching around the cigarette, grimacing slightly at the faint taste of sour booze in his mouth.

Sighing slightly he finally lit the cigarette, and inhaled hard. The acrid tang of burning tobacco replacing the less than savory taste from moments before. He smirked faintly. _Stay classy Spiegel._

Trudging out of his room, he slowly meandered his way down the hallway, coming to stop in front of Faye’s door. Leaning against the wall, he decided that the best course of action was to first finish his cigarette.

He wondered if Faye was awake yet. Was she pissed at him for cutting out before she woke the morning before? Or did she even care? Did he care? Should he care?

A million questions bounced around in his head as he dropped his spent cigarette to the floor, silently vowing to pick it up later. Once again he came to stare at the offending door.

Carefully he raised his fist as he poised himself to knock, when the nagging headache threatened to over take his skull once more. Slowly he lowered his hand to his side. If ever a sign existed, he was sure that was it. He would talk to Jet first.

* * *

 

Continuing along on his journey through the corridors of the Bebop, the faint sound of snipping, signified the location of his intended target.

Spike leaned heavily against the door frame of the room, unnoticed by his older comrade as gloved hands carefully pruned the small green branches of the bonsai that sat before him.

A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Spike’s mouth as he continued his silent observation. For such an imposing, bulky man to pay such attention to every minute detail in caring for such a small plant, spoke much deeper volumes into the kind of man Jet was.

He was far more loyal, nurturing, and caring than his gruff exterior would imply to someone on the outside. Spike supposed in some ways Faye and himself were like Jet’s bonsai’s at times. Untamed, unruly, and in need of someone to make sure they didn’t just up and die from time to time.

Clearing his throat to make his presence known, Spike entered the room. “Mornin’”

Jet looked up briefly and nodded, before shifting his attention back to the plant. “ Mornin.”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Spike became well aware of the uncomfortable silence that had been quick to settle over the room. His hand clutched the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, before slowly drawing them out.

“If your looking for the woman she cut out right after you left yesterday.”

“Shocking.” Spike deadpanned as he lit a cigarette, sitting on the edge of the table that held the bonsai plants.

Jet set the clippers down with a heavy sigh, and lit a cigarette of his own. “ Look, I know its none of my damn business….but you’re playing with fire Spike. I mean, by sleeping with the girl.”

Spike tensed, his back to Jet. “What makes you thinking I’m fucking her in the first place?”

Ignoring Spike’s vulgarity, Jet tapped the ash off the end of cigarette into the plastic ashtray on the table. “ Look you know just as well as I do that sound carries in this place. All I’m saying is you know just as well as I do that she’s not as tough as she lets on.”

Feeling his face flush slightly, Spike sighed. “ Yeah I know, I wish I didn’t, but I do. I know she loves me, but she doesn’t love me, I know the whole sad fucking story Jet.”

“I’m not worried about you. It’s her I worry about.”

“Gee thanks…dad…” His voice heavily laced with bitter sarcasm, Spike could feel Jet’s eyes bore through his back. “ Look….I didn’t come here to talk to you about sleeping with Faye. We’re both adults...we...well….we know what we’re doing.”

“Do you?”

Turning to toss his burnt out cigarette in the ashtray, Spike met Jet’s steely gaze, both almost silently challenging the other. He maintained eye contact as he answered. “Yes.” Though at this point he was pretty much doubting his answer. He had no idea what he was doing any more when it came to Faye.

Jet nodded, crushing out his own cigarette, breaking the eye lock stand off.

“I came here to say…well…that you’re a good man Jet.”

Steely blue met mismatched brown in a brief moment of silent understanding, before Jet arched a quizzical eyebrow. Though Spike was quick to cut him off before any words could leave his mouth.

“I mean…you took my sorry ass back in more times than any sane person ever would have, and didn’t expect anything in return. So thanks…I guess.”

Jet picked up his clippers once more, and turned his attention to the plants in front of him with out a word.

Lightning another cigarette, Spike stood, cramming his hands into his pockets, heading out of the room with a posture that oozed over confidence.

“Hey Spike.”

He had almost made it to the doorway when Jet’s voice caused him to stop, though he didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”  
“You’re welcome.”

“Thanks.” Grinning around the cigarette firmly held between his lips. Spike pulled a hand from his pocket, waving slightly as he exited the room, amusement heavy in his voice as he spoke. _Well that was easy enough_. Maybe talking to Faye wouldn’t be so hard either.

* * *

 

A week passed and things between Jet and himself had been just fine. Unfortunately much to his chagrin, Faye had failed to return home.

It didn’t come as much of a surprise to Spike, he if anyone, should know how hard old habits died.

Laying sprawled out on the down trodden yellow couch in the lounge of the Bebop, Spike had an open book on his chest, a half spent cigarette between his fingers, and his head pressed into the sagging cushions, his eyes closed.

He had just started to doze off when the ringing of the ships main com unit startled him awake. Taking a drag off his cigarette, he half opened his eyes. “Jet! Someone’s callin’.”

The lack of reply and continued ringing forced him to sit up. “Fine I guess I’ll get it.” he mumbled to himself, hitting accept on the screen.

Things had been slow over the course of the last week, and he was fully expecting Bob to be calling with some info on a potential bounty. As he flopped back on the couch, the voice on the other end however made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Hey Jet.”

Quickly sitting up, Spike was met by the image of a quiet down trodden looking Faye on the other end. “Hey.”

Faye scowled upon realizing the recipient of her call. “Oh it’s you…”

“You need something?”

“No. Not from you.” Faye ended the call before either party could utter another word.

Leaning back against the couch that seemed to have become molded perfectly to the shape of his body over time, Spike grinned. He easily recognized the décor behind Faye as that of the same shit hole bar he had pulled her out of a few weeks prior.

How convenient that the Bebop was docked at the same shitty dock in Ganymede that it had been at that time. The one with cramped moorage and ridiculous docking fees for what it had to offer.

Stretching his arms high above his head the grin on Spike’s lips turned to one of the mischievous variety. Since potential bounties were next to nil, and he was feeling bored and restless; he supposed bringing home a stray of a different kind couldn’t hurt. If nothing else it would kill sometime.


	9. Grey Room

Over head speakers crackled and reverberated with far too much feedback, not that she had expected anything less. Sighing, Faye stared into the half empty vodka tonic that sat before her. As luck would have it, the Anchor Watch, her once mostly empty watering hole for wallowing in her own self pity, was packed to the gills tonight. There was a big karaoke competition, and the best of the worst singers on this side on Ganymede had shown up to compete.

Taking a sip of the drink that had been poured with an overly generous hand, Faye sighed once more. For the umpteenth time she had done the one thing she was more than good at, running from the slightest bit of trouble. It was pointless, that much she knew. She would go back to the Bebop eventually, she always did. It was the only home she had, and as much as she would like not to admit it, she needed it, and the two men aboard it.

Sure she could do just fine on her own, she had proven that time and time again to herself. Sure Jet, Spike and herself all had a dysfunctional relationship, but it was theirs to own, and what had started as convenience had twisted into a bond of normalcy. It was the way things had been and the way things would stay, lather, rinse, repeat.

After the third poorly sung, sappy country love song in a row, Fay had about just enough. Tossing back the rest of her almost as poorly made drink, she left a few woolongs on the bar top and made her way toward the door. A slightly more on key voice following her as she stepped out. **‘If I could, baby I'd give you my world. How can I? When you won't take it from me?’** She paused in the doorway for a moment and cringed before stepping onto the sidewalk. Maybe the cool night air would be enough to clear her head.

* * *

 

Licking a rather generous glob of ketchup from the side of his hand, Spike swallowed the last bite of his street vendor purchased hot dog. He hadn’t been all that hungry, but as he had begun his trek along the battered pier, any excuse to avoid his current target seemed like a good one.

Sure he had been gung ho to go and retrieve Faye at first, but the more his imagination took hold of just how that exchange would pan out, the more he looked for a reason to prolong the inevitable meeting. He knew he wasn’t that far off from the seedy bar he had practically drug her out of mere weeks earlier, but a few weeks earlier things had been far less complicated.

Lighting a cigarette he leaned over the pier railing to stare into the inky depths below. No, a couple weeks ago things had been much easier indeed. For starters he hadn’t been sleeping with Faye, she hadn’t been making admissions of feelings, that he always sort of had an inkling might be true, only to deny them later. He hadn’t forced himself to feel or think about anything much regarding his life, past, present of future. He had been complacently stuck in the mundane, and had been alright with it. Things had been for a lack of better words, simple.

All these new thoughts and feelings that had begun to plague him were down right intrusive. He had grown so accustom to be the lackadaisical, proverbial dead man walking, that he was starting to wonder if he was losing his edge and growing soft. Or maybe, just maybe this is how it felt to be a person who knows that there is a future waiting for them.

Dropping his spent cigarette to the water below, Spike sighed. Whatever it was, ignoring it wasn’t an option, and neither was running from it, as it didn’t seem to working so well for Faye. Straightening back up, and placing another cigarette between his lips, Spike shoved his hands in his pockets and continued on his way.

* * *

 

Crinkling the brown paper bag that contained a still sealed bottle of vodka, Faye stared out across the water at the memorizing swirl of city lights across the harbor. She had taken refuge on the same bench that she could easily attribute to her current state of mind. After all it had all started there.

She chuckled dryly to herself. _Who are you kidding, it started way before that._ Despite her willingness to curse the bench, she found it oddly comforting at the same time.

Fiddling with the cap on the bottle, she was about to crack the seal, when an approaching figure caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Craning her neck for a better look, she groaned as emerald eyes fixed on the a familiar lanky figure bathed in the dusky street light.

She should have known better than to think he wouldn’t eventually show up, he couldn’t ever let her be right about something, he was probably trying to prove some sort of point by coming out here.

Biting her lip, Faye listened as the foot steps came nearer, and eventually stopped beside the bench. She clenched the paper covered bottle tighter. “Don’t even start.”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Spike unceremoniously sat beside her, resting his feet on the railing of the dock.

“You don’t have too.”

Shrugging Spike lit a cigarette. “You plan on drinking that? Or you just gonna hold it all night.”

“What’s it matter to you? I’m not sharing if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“No I would suppose not.” Spike exhaled, glancing sidelong at his violet haired companion. “You coming home soon or what?”

“Why do you care?”

“Never said I did.”

Faye sighed. “Of course not.”

Silence settled over them, thick and heavy as Spike smoked through two more cigarettes, tossing one after another over the railing and into the water below. “You ever have someone you love die?”

Faye choked back a bitter laugh as she lit a cigarette of her own. “ That’s a stupid question. You know the answer to that.”

Brushing ash from his knee, Spike shifted his gaze to the ground. “ You ever watch someone you love die?”

Faye bit down hard on the filter of her cigarette, knowing exactly what he was referring to. She remained silent.

“I didn’t think so.” Placing his feet back on the railing, he turned his eye back to Faye. “ See…that’s just the thing Faye. I know you’ve got issues, I know you have baggage, I know you’ve been hurt. But you aren’t the only one. It’s not all about you all the time.” He sighed. “ Just remember that the next time you want to run off.”

Lighting another cigarette, Spike rose to his feet, he jumped a little when Faye grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. “Wait.”

“What?”

Faye bit her lip, curiosity getting the best of her. “What did you do…I mean what happened to her after that?”

Spike exhaled hard. “ I left her there. In the street.”

Faye was floored by his nonchalant tone. “You what?!”

“What was I supposed to do?” Spike lit another cigarette. “ The place was crawling with syndicate thugs. And I still had things I needed to do. I wasn’t ready to join her…Yet.”

Crushing her cigarette out on the end of the bench, Faye gingerly placed a hand on Spike’s shoulder. “ I’m sorry.”

He shrugged her hand off. “ Don’t be. The past is the past.”

Recoiling slightly, Faye adverted her gaze out across the water, wishing she could believe the statement that was offered up by the lanky man.

Taking another drag off his cigarette, Spike watched Faye from the corner of his eye, he could practically hear the gears in her head turning, as he watched her bite the corner of her lip. “Stop that.”

“Stop what.”

“Whatever you’re thinking about. Stop it.”

“I’m not thinking about anything.” Faye shot back defensively.

“You are.” Spike countered. “ You do that thing your doing right now, you clench your fist and rub the side of your finger with your thumb.”

“I do not…” Faye glanced down at her hand and scowled, quickly relaxing it. She hated the way Spike could read her like a cheap dime store novel.

“You still love me.” It wasn’t a question as much as a statement.

Faye knew it was pointless to lie since she was apparently as transparent as tissue paper. Breaking the seal on the bottle, she sighed. “Yes.” As she brought the bottle to her lips, Spike snatched it from her, and leaned in, kissing her.

Pulling back slightly, Spike smirked knowingly. “Ya know, it’s kinda nice to do that sober for a change.” He swiftly brought the bottle to his lips and took a long pull, before Faye snatched it back.

“Asshole.” Faye mumbled, taking a slug from the bottle herself.

Gingerly rubbing the back of his neck, Spike smirked. “Well you know me…That’s kind of…” His words were cut short when Faye pressed her lips to his once more, wasting little time taking the kiss from one of innocence to full blown sin in a matter of seconds.

Pulling back, Faye studied the lustful gaze that stared back at her. Throwing caution to the wind, she straddled his lap, her lips ghosting down his neck.

Spike tensed and grabbed her hips, gently pushing her off, and rising to his feet.

Faye grabbed the bottle from the ground, and adverted her gaze from Spike, hoping he wouldn’t be able to read the slight disappointment on her face.

“Look…I think there is probably vacancy at that motel…I mean, If you want..”

Nodding dumbly, Faye processed his words slowly as she pushed up off the bench.

Grabbing the bottle from her hands Spike lobbed it out into the harbor. It landed with a soft splash. “Come on, lets go.”

* * *

 

Rolling on to her side, Faye pulled the starchy cotton blend sheet over her body, her heartbeat pounding heavily in her ears. She tensed as she felt Spike run his hand slowly down her sweat slicked side, his arm coming to circle her waist as he pulled her firmly back against him, his nose buried in her hair.

“Just go with it Faye.” Spike tightened his hold on her slightly. “ It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to hold someone like this.”

Faye sighed and relaxed back against him. “It’s not all about you.” Her slightly bitter tinged words echoing his statement from earlier. “ Besides, you’ve had your chance.”

Kissing her bare shoulder, Spike sighed. “ Just let it be. Besides when was the last time someone held you like this.”

“Gee, I didn’t realize it was such an honor.” She had to admit to herself, it was nice, she let down her front of indifference and rested her hand on his forearm. “If we’re going to be honest. Never.”

“That’s a shame. You deserve it. You’re a good woman Faye.”

Tensing once more, Faye felt a lump rise in her throat as she swallowed hard, tears stinging her eyes. She never would have expected the sweetest words anyone had ever spoken to her to come from the man behind her.

Relaxing against him once more, she sought out his hand, lacing her fingers with his and bringing it up, gently kissing the back of his hand. “Thanks.”

“Mm Hm.” he mumbled.

Faye wasn’t sure what to make of this new found level of intimacy. Whatever was transpiring between them now far surpassed anything they could share with their bodies. Tomorrow she would try to sort through it, with or without him, but for now she would do just what Spike had suggested, and let it be.

“Hey Spike?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think ever happened to Ed and Ein?”

Spike shifted slightly, and stifled a yawn. “I dunno, maybe she met up with that deadbeat dad of hers again. Or maybe they ran into some other poor suckers, and they are making life chaotic for them.”

“Maybe.”

Silence settled over them for a few moments, as both shifted a bit, trying to work out a comfortable arrangement of tangled legs.

Faye yawned. “ I miss them sometimes.”

“Me too.” Spike admitted. Kissing the top of her head, Spike pressed his face into the pillow. “Get some sleep, its late.” His only response was soft snoring from the woman beside him. “Night Faye.”

Closing his eyes, sleep was quick to claim him.

Outside the window a soft rain had started to fall, the city lights still danced across the inky surface of the harbor, and all was right with world, even if only for a few fleeting hours.


	10. Poison and Wine

Rain fell in steady torrents, pounding against the window. Stirring slightly, Spike pressed his face back into the starchy motel room pillow case.

Though his thoughts were still sleep hazed, his mind entertained a few certain thoughts. He had slept better than he had in a good long while. He felt good, no post drinking head ache, no sour stomach, no nagging regrets from the night before. He felt, dare he admit it to himself, at peace.

He could still feel Faye pressed warm against him, though he felt her shift slightly in his hold.

“It’s nine-thirty.” Her voice sounded cold.

“Mm hmm..” Opening his eyes slowly, Spike stifled a yawn. “ How long have you been awake?”

“Longer than I should have been.” Slipping from under his arm, Faye yawned. “I need to take a shower.”

Wrapping his arm around her once more, Spike closed his eyes again settling against the pillow once more. “Come on. What’s the rush?”

“Get off me.” Shrugging his arm off of her, Faye remained unmoving.

With an exasperated sigh, Spike rolled on his back, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “ What the hell is your problem?”

“You.”

Spike chuckled dryly. “So it seems. That’s how it is huh? We can only be civil when we’re drunk or fucking?”

“Apparently so.”

Not so quick to be deterred, Spike once again slipped his arm around her waist, dragging her back against him.

“Get off lunkhead!” Throwing his arm off her, Faye closed her eyes, slowly exhaling. “ Look. If this is some sort of thing you need to do to get over the guilt of leaving me alone in the hallway that day or whatever…stop. I don’t need your sympathy Spiegel.”

Staring blankly at the ceiling, Spike sighed once more. “That’s an awfully big presumption.”

Rolling on her back, Faye bit her lip apprehensively, joining Spike in staring intently at the old popcorn ceiling above. “We need to stop this…whatever it is that we are doing. It’s not healthy.”

Lacing his fingers together behind his head, Spike chuckled. “Faye, when have either of us ever done anything that is the least bit healthy?”

“Never…But I’m serious Spike.” Her tone came out more cold and biting than even she had expected, Faye cringed slightly, not that her companion would have noticed with his eyes still keenly trained on the ceiling.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Doesn’t matter what you want. I’m telling you, it stops now.”

“If you say so.” Spike glanced sidelong toward Faye, his eye catching a view of the curve of her breast where the sheet had slid down slightly. “Besides I…” All further words died in his throat, as he quickly resolved himself to stare at the ceiling once more . . It was a much safer place to fix his gaze.

Faye closed her eyes, and let out a defeated sigh. Somewhere beside her she felt Spike shift, the worn mattress creaking in protest with his every movement.

Slowly emerald green eyes opened, to be met by an intense mismatched brown gaze. There was something possessive in those irises, and the predatory smirk that graced his thin lips did little for her mind, which was already in over drive. She was appalled at how much she wanted him right now.

“I don’t want another man touching you.” Spike lewdly pressed his hips against hers, the smirk never once leaving his face.

Glancing toward the window, Faye felt a shiver run through her body at the cold tone of his voice and the close contact, once against chiding herself for her overwhelming desire for the man above her. Shifting her glance upward, Faye met his gaze with a defiant stare of her own. “I’m not your property.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” Spike leaned down, his lips just mere inches from hers.

“ I could fuck this whole damn city if I wanted too.” Pressing her hips into his, Faye seductively smirked. “ And there isn’t a thing you could do about it.”

“No.” Spike bit the corner of his lip, quickly grabbing her hands and pinning them roughly above her head. “I mean it. No one.”

“My, my what a big strong man you are.” Faye smiled in mock innocence, pressing herself against him once more. “ And how exactly would you plan on stopping me?”

Gripping her wrists harder, a devious grin spread across his lips as Spike leaned in closer, his the tip of his nose brushing hers. “ By taking what’s mine.”

Faye winced slightly. “ Prove it.”

Pulling back, Spike studied her face. “I…I will.” His speech faltered, and he cursed himself for losing some of his cool. Releasing her hands, he was starting to question what even caused his sudden possessiveness in the first place.

“Then shut up and do it.”

Crushing her lips in an unyielding kiss, Spike set forth to prove every goading word that fell from her mouth wrong.

 

* * *

 

Thin wisps of smoke trailed from the smoldering end of a cigarette. Spike sighed as he exhaled a generous cloud of smoke, his eyes trailing over Faye’s bare back, as she laid on her side facing away from him. The silence in the room almost suffocating.

Though his muscles felt languid, his brain was flooded with a buzz heavier than any bottle of booze could ever provide. He wasn’t sure how to discern the difference between the conflicting feelings. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

Faye stared at an obscure stain on the wall, maybe it was from years of cigarettes smoked, or from a water leak; it didn’t matter. She tensed as something bounced off her shoulder, and a hand extended to retrieve the pack of cigarettes that had been deposited before her.

Pulling a slender white stick from the pack, she studied it in all its sad, bent glory. “Ya know, if you didn’t pack these so hard, they wouldn’t be so impossibly bent.”

“Guess I just don’t know how to be gentle.” Came the reply from the other side of the bed.

Eyes trailing from the crooked cigarette, to the thumb shaped bruises on her wrists, Faye cringed inwardly. Despite the words of the man behind her, and the marks on her skin, the whole thing had been a contradiction.

What had transpired between them mere moments earlier had been exactly that. Gentle. Gone was the anger and bitterness. There had been no release of pent up lust, no inhibitions let loose by pints of booze. It had been tender, gentle, and dare she even begin to think it, loving.

She felt her insides twist in confusion, though she didn’t have long to dwell on the thoughts that raced through her mind, as a calloused hand dangled a lighter in front of her face.

Slender fingers were quick to grab the lighter, as Faye pulled herself upright, dragging the sheet with her as she lit her cigarette, exhaling hard.

The murky silence still filled the room, as the pair smoked in awkward silence, occasionally stealing sidelong glances at one and other.

“I could love you.” Spike took another drag from his cigarette, smoking it almost down to the filter.

Arching an eyebrow, Faye trained her eyes on the wall straight ahead. “You could? It’s either you do or you don’t.”

“It’s a could. It’s not that simple. You know that.”

“So what now?” Faye’s question was only met by more of the same silence from before. “ Do we just keep playing into this illusion in seedy motel rooms?”

“I guess so.” Spike crushed out his cigarette. “ Is that a problem?”

“I suppose not.” Faye crushed out her own cigarette, watching it smolder, like her own irritation, in the black plastic ashtray.

“Perfect.” Spike nodded slightly, contemplating another cigarette to take the edge off his slowly fraying nerves.

That was Faye’s breaking point. “No. No its not fucking perfect! It’s fucked up.” She leaned over, shaking his shoulders. “This is real. It’s not some dream. Though I know how much you prefer them to reality.” She held up her bruised wrist. “ This is real too. You and I, were real. Jesus, what is wrong with you?!”

Laying back against the starchy pillow, Spike sighed heavily. “ Fuck. I don’t know! Ok Faye? I don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “ You said it yourself, I should be dead. I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t even know why I am. I wake up every goddamn morning wondering the same thing.”

Faye opened her mouth to retort, but quickly shut it, sinking back against the worn mattress in defeat.

“ Everyday it’s the same thing. Wake up either hung over, or pissed off at the world. There’s a bounty to collar, or not. Drink and smoke, try not to think about what a waste of life I am. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

Rolling on her side, Faye studied his profile. “ Yeah, Spike I do.” She sighed heavily. “ More than you could even start to imagine.”

“Some times I wish that katana would have just ran me through, and let me bleed out on those fucking stairs. Then I wouldn’t have to feel a thing.” His voice cracked slightly, running his hands through his hair, Spike blinked hard. “ I don’t even know what I’m saying.” He sighed. “ I’m not good at talking about shit like this, ya know?”

Studying the crumbling façade of indifference of the lanky man beside her, for the first time since they had met, Faye felt genuine pity for him. Rolling over, she laid her head on his chest, and draped an arm across his torso, her fingers lightly skimming the scar from his fight from Vicious that ran along his abdomen. “ You want to know something stupid?”

Spike tensed slightly. “What?”

“I feel safe with you.”

Closing his eyes slightly, Spike chuckled dryly. “That is stupid.”

Kissing his collar bone, Faye laid her head back on his chest. “ I know.”

“Faye. We can have this in the moment, but when the day starts anew, its different. It’s all bounties, and booze. Gunpowder and blood. Neither of us knowing when it could be us on the wrong side of a bullet. There wont be any rainbows and sunshine, no picnics and flowers. No poetic words or promises. Faye people like you and me don’t get a happy ending.”

His words stung, but she knew everyone rang true. Neither of them were in a place to prove them otherwise. Tightening her hold on him, she felt his arm come around her, his fingers gently stroking her hair. It broke her heart, and yet she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Faye, right now, in this moment, I love you.” Spike pulled her closer. “ But I can’t promise you anything beyond this.”

“I know. You too.” She couldn’t bring herself to return the words, but she appreciated them none the less.

Tucking her head under his chin, she sought out his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled, as the rain continued to beat against the window.

Spike may have once been a man who chose to live in dreams, and though he had no choice to live in reality, it seemed that he preferred the illusion of happiness in favor of pursuing it. As much as she would like to be the one to make him see the truth, Faye knew that she couldn’t.

In the gloomy, humid motel room, in a tangle of relaxed limbs, they had found an escape from reality in each other. Neither quite yet willing to face the reality of their lives.

Sighing contently, Faye relished the shared body heat, thin lips pressed to her forehead, and the calloused fingers tracing obscure shapes along the small of her back. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to entertain Spike’s illusion just a little while longer.


	11. It Started to Rain

Distance. It seemed that was all there was between them. Though not vast, it was still painfully there , measured out in curt conversations, intense gazes, and long restless nights.

Leaning against the door frame, Faye stared out across the flight deck. Perched at the edge, fishing pole in hand, sat Spike. He looked like a statue built to honor her ever growing frustration.

It had been just over a week since their last taboo encounter in that shady motel that they had come to favor. It had also been one of the longest weeks she could recall, as she had done as much as possible to avoid being alone with him. Unfortunately she knew she couldn’t avoid him forever.

Reeling in some of the slack in his line, Spike listened to the familiar set of footsteps across the flight deck, as they approached closer, he cracked another beer from the six pack that sat beside him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Gazing out toward the sun, slowly making its way lower into the sky, Faye took a deep breath. “ Catch anything?”

Smirking, Spike reached into the six pack, extending a beer up to her. “ A little buzz, that’s about it.”

Taking the beer, Faye twisted the cap off, and carefully took a seat beside him, her legs hanging over the edge of the Bebop, mirroring Spike. “That’s not such a bad thing.”

“Yeah I guess…” Spike was cut off at the sound of the bay doors opening, as the Hammerhead took off, the breeze left in its wake making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “ Where’s Jet off too?”

“Oh…” Faye took a long drink from her beer. “ He said he was meeting up with Bob, said something about making sure we don’t kill each other while he’s gone. Ya know, the usual.”

Spike chuckled. “ Well I don’t think he has to worry too much about that.”

Faye fell silent, taking another drink from her bottle, she glanced sidelong at his hands, slender fingers wrapped around the fishing pole. Slender fingers that belonged to hands that she was certain had broken a few noses in their time. She knew they were calloused from years of handling a gun, and from tools carefully handled while tinkering around with the Swordfish. She knew those fingers belonged to hands capable of violence, and yet they also belonged to hands that, while tangled in starchy motel room sheets were also capable of being far more gentle than she could have ever imagined. She felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re not wearing any make up.” His words sharply cut through her reverie. Faye quickly composed herself, somehow finding that air of indifference that she prided herself of possessing.

“Is that your way of trying to say I look like shit?”

Much to her dismay, those fingers and hands she had been so recently musing over, gently traced the side of her face. She instantly loathed herself for enjoying the warmth they spread through out her body.

“No, I like it.”

“Oh…” That had been unexpected, Faye desperately racked her brain for some witty retort, which failed to form in her racing mind. She opened her mouth to get something out before things grew quiet once more, but before she could get anything out she was cut off with a searing kiss from the lanky man beside her.

Setting her beer down, she brought her hand up to rest against his cheek as he deepened the kiss, her finger tips tracing along the stubble on his face. As his lips trailed down her neck, that warmth she had felt early turned to a raging fire. Reluctantly she pushed him away, confused by the hurt she saw in his eyes as he pulled back.

“Not here…inside.” She motioned with her head toward the door, ignoring the little voice of reason in her head that tried to warn her not to bring their trysts onto home turf.

Spike smirked, rising to his feet, offering her a hand to her feet. “I like the way you think Valentine.”

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t make it very far at all. Back pressed against the cool metal of the Bebop’s hull, just outside the bay doors, Faye closed her eyes as Spike’s lips once against began their assault on her neck. “We’re not there yet…” She murmured.

Mismatched brown met green for a moment, as Spike flashed a devilish grin. “Faye. Shut up.” His lips were on hers again. This time it didn’t matter. As her nimble fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, coherent Faye had left the building and was no where in sight.

* * *

 

There was a large screw sticking out of the hull of the Bebop, Faye only became aware of it as it dug into her back, as she tried to wait for her racing heart to catch up to the pace of her calming breath. She also focused on the screw to distract herself from the vice like grip Spike still had on the back of her thighs.

“God damn.” Spike mumbled against Faye’s neck, his lips ghosting against her skin.

“Mm..Hm.” She murmured, pulling back slightly, trying to capture his lips in a kiss, but they only managed to brush against his sweaty forehead, the salty taste lingering as he released his grip on her, lowering her to her feet.

Quickly buttoning his fly, Spike shoved his hands in his pockets, leisurely strolling back toward his previous perch at the edge of flight deck.

Faye quickly pulled her bottoms up, dumbfounded. Her confusion soon gave way to anger, she wanted to slap him, yell at him, anything. Her anger was further spurred as she heard him whistle a sharp, lilting tune as he walked away.

For the first time all day, Faye listened to the small rational voice inside, rather than give into her anger and hurt, she disappeared into the bowels of the ship.

* * *

 

Sometime later, tears of anger mixing with the lukewarm spray of the shower, Faye tried to scrub all traces of the lanky cowboy from her skin. Not that it mattered anyways, he was in her head, and worse yet, in her heart.

She knew it was pretty much playing with fire from the get go, no matter what she felt for him, to get involved physically. She had been able to handled getting tangled up in the sheets of the cheap motels, but today, on the Bebop, as he had strode away from her so carelessly, he had made her feel like nothing more than a cheap whore. And that was surely something she was not, of that much she was sure.

Turning off the shower, and wrapping herself in a towel, she sighed as she leaned back against the bathroom door. There was only one thing left to do, and that was to outright confront Spike. Too bad she didn’t have the first clue as how to do that. But it was something that couldn’t be avoided any longer. Sighing once more, she pulled the towel tighter around herself. _Good luck Faye._


End file.
